White Heather: A Novel (Volume 1 of 3)Black, William
General
White Heather: A Novel (Volume 1 of 3)
Black, William
Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
’Only as far as the bridge. I met her as I was coming back. And she
looked so pretty and shy that I spoke to her; I think she was a little
frightened at first; but anyway I got to know who she is—the Doctor’s
daughter. Oh, you should hear her speak—the accent is so pretty and
gentle. Well, it’s all settled, pappa; I’m just in love with the
Highland people, from this out.’
’There’s safety in numbers,’ observed her father grimly; and then he
proceeded to explore the contents of the covers.
When they were ready to go down to the loch they found that the men had
already set out—all but Ronald, who had remained behind to see if there
was nothing further he could carry for the young lady. So these three
started together; and of course all the talk was about the far too fine
weather, and the chances of getting a fish or two in spite of it, and
the betting on the rival boats. Miss Carry listened in silence; so far
she had heard or seen nothing very remarkable about the handsome young
keeper who had so impressed her father. He spoke frankly and freely
enough, it is true (when he was not speaking to her), and he was
recounting with some quiet sarcasm certain superstitious beliefs and
practices of the people about there; but, apart from the keen look of
his eyes, and the manly ring of his voice, and the easy swing of the
well-built figure, there was nothing, as she considered, very noticeable
about him. She thought his keeper’s costume rather picturesque, and
weather-worn into harmonious colour; and wondered how men in towns had
come to wear the unsightly garments of these present days. And so at
last they arrived at the loch; and found that the gillies had got the
rods fixed and everything ready; and presently the black boat, with Mr.
Hodson and his two gillies, was shoved off, and Ronald, before asking
the young lady to step into the green boat—the Duke’s boat—was showing
her what she should do if a salmon should attach itself to either of the
lines.
’I don’t feel like catching a salmon somehow,’ she remarked. ’I don’t
think it can be true. Anyway you’ll see I shan’t scream.’
She stepped into the boat and took her seat; the rods were placed for
her; the coble was shoved farther into the water, and then Ronald and
the young lad got in and took to the oars. Miss Carry was bidden to pay
out one of the lines slowly as they moved away from the bank; and in due
course she had both lines out and the two rods fixed at the proper
angle, and the reels free. She obeyed all his instructions without
haste or confusion. She was a promising pupil. And he wondered what
nerve she would show when the crisis came.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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